Slash, Fag and a Bottle of Scotch
by jitterfly
Summary: Chandler gets a shocking call... and the rest is what follows.
1. Chapter 1

(This is for the prompt - Chandler/Kent & Kent/Jimmy Kray (non-con) - what if Kent's attack had a sexual element aswell as just the knife slashes. Not necessarily full on non-con, but something more than what we saw on screen. Then how Chandler/Kent and the team deal with it. Can be established C/K relationship or budding one. Sorry if this prompt is a bit 'out there', I know it's darker than most of the other prompts on here.) 'Darker than most prompts' ... hhmmm ... enter me!

"Hello, is this Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler?"

The voice on the phone belonged to a woman. It was monotone and had an air of professionalism to it.

"This is he."  
>"This is the Royal London Hospital. We've just bought in, who we believe to be, one of your DC's. A Detective Constable … Emerson Kent."<br>"Kent! What's happened? Is he ok?" The flurry of hurried questions was probably a bad move in front of the team, but Joe hadn't time to separate his emotions from his work. _His_ DC was in hospital and he needed to know.  
>"I'm afraid I can't give out that information over the phone Sir, but we found this number in his phone as an 'in case of emergency' number."<br>His _I.C.E_? Joe was Kent's I.C.E? They had been 'seeing' each other for over three months now, but it still made Joe feel warm inside, that Kent would chose _him_.  
>"Fine, I'm on my way." Chandler hung up and turned to his team. They'd heard the conversation, of course, but he felt as if it were his 'job' to tell them.<br>"Kent's been taken to hospital. They wouldn't tell me why, but I'm going there now." He already had an arm in his coat and was heading towards the door before Miles had a chance to insist on his company to the hospital.

Joe raced down the stairs, almost slipping on the corner and shoved the door open with force he hadn't been known to possess. As he electronically unlocked his car, Miles shouted after him, his voice barely audible over the wheezing.  
>"Wait up Sir."<br>"Miles. Hurry up." Chandler had the keys in the ignition now, and was just putting the lever into reverse when Miles opened the passenger door.  
>He knew the fate of the young man wouldn't alter from a swift response or even the presence of two of his superiors, but Chandler didn't want Kent to be alone any second longer than it was physically possible for him to drive there.<br>"Did they say anything on the phone?" Miles asked trying to bring his DI back into rational conversation.  
>"Nothing."<p>

The car was well away on the road now, and Chandler kept his hands and eyes fixed firmly in their place. "Only that he'd been brought in. The rest is confidential."

"Well, I guess they can't just hand out personal information."  
>"Yes, but I'm his …." Chandler didn't know what the next word out of his mouth was <em>going<em> to be, but whatever it was, it was replaced. "...DI. Surely it's my business too."  
>Miles looked at his driver; his DI; his friend, and put his hand on Joe's shoulder.<br>"He's gonna be ok. He's got you to wait for."  
>Miles had known about Chandler and Kent's relationship before they did. He saw the looks from across the room when the other was oblivious. He saw the looks they shared and he definitely saw the young DC reach out and take the hand of his admirer when it was assumed they were alone in the office. He had no problem with it, he had assumed Chandler 'swayed' that way from the first day they met, but some of the others at the station might not look to kindly upon it. That was why he had sworn to secrecy the day Joe found out the true extent of his knowledge.<br>The corners of Joe's mouth rose slightly as if trying to form a smile, but the situation was too dire for them to follow through.

"I hope so."


	2. Chapter 2

The hospital doors swung open as the gurney was forced through at running speed. Lying on top, gripping the sides in agony, Kent was trying to hold back his tears. The pain was excruciating, but the humiliation was worse. He's a detective; A member of the police. He should have been more careful, or at least known what to do. He hadn't even seen his attacker, he'd been too scared to turn around. _Not_ what a DC should be. And now they'd gotten away. They'd left him, stranded, to bleed, after slashing him and …

Everything was happening too fast. After what happened… what they'd done to him, they'd dragged him haphazardly into the boot of a car and driven for God knows how long. When daylight finally assaulted his swollen eyes once more, he saw an expanse of nothing. He had no idea where the two figures had dumped him out, but he knew there was no hope of anyone seeing him. After checking his bloodied pockets, he was pleased to find his phone, sticky but working. He'd been slouched up against a wall waiting for the ambulance for what seemed like an eternity. In actuality, it had only taken them about 30 minutes to find him, but after hanging up the phone, Kent was left with just the silence in the air and the searing pain on his back. But now, things whizzed past him, faster than he could take it in. As soon as the paramedics arrived, he'd been pulled, prodded, jabbed, turned and rushed up slopes, through doors and down corridors. All he wanted was five minutes to take in his surroundings. All he really wanted was Joe.

Chandler's knuckles were losing their colour. He gripped the steering wheel at '10 and 2', only moving on occasion to change gear, and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road. Miles' attempts at conversation were met with a distracted moan, so now they were travelling in silence. Although awkward at first, Miles soon relished the silence that seemed to outline Chandler. He now had a chance, uninterrupted, to simply observe.

His boss stared intently at the road before him, his eyes only darting to the side when passing a junction. His hands gripped the wheel and his posture remained straight and steady. If this was how he took his test, then Miles could easily see why he passed first time.

His face looked calm, despite the speed with which they were travelling and the circumstance they were travelling under. His eyes were unreadable. Miles knew his mind must be racing, but if it was, his face didn't give it away. He found comfort in seeing his DI like this. Although emotionally compromised, he remained calm and collected, his response was rapid and his driving perfect. Miles knew, even with the soft spot he had for Kent, Chandler would act the same way for any of his team.

They pulled up at the hospital car park. As soon as the keys were out of the ignition, Chandler had the door open and one foot out of the car. He had to wait for Miles to get out to lock it but as soon as he was, Chandler sprinted ahead and into the doors of the hospital.

"I'm looking for DC Kent. Emerson. He was brought in about twenty minutes ago." Joe was breathing deeply but his speech didn't falter. He commanded respect as soon as he opened his mouth, and the young receptionist automatically made to check the whereabouts of the man, before remembering to check who she was disclosing the information to.

"I'm sorry. You are?"

"DI Chandler. Where is Emerson Kent?" Joe was trying to be patient but he _needed _to know where his DC was. At least his position in the police bought him some authority.

"He's in the ED. You can't go in there though."

"Fine, thank you."

Miles had caught up now, but Chandler was on the move again. "Keep up Miles. He's in the emergency room."

"Right behind you Sir."

Kent lay on his stomach, waiting. He found it funny that he had moaned about his arm being sore from needles, when he'd just been striped. The doctor had gone and the nurses were dealing with other patients, so Kent finally had time to take things in. The room was white and clinical, but then again, it _was_ a hospital. Machines bleeped and people bustled but he was finally being left alone for a minute.

He thought back to the incident. How they had pushed him from behind; How his body was trapped against the wall; How the knife had ripped through his skin, twice; and the agonising, ineffable pain that consumed him as the knife penetrated his body. His wounds flared up at the memory, but the pain died down and the world went quiet as the memory of what happened next hit him like a cold shower.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The colours of the hospital faded to grey and the bustle of the floor turned to static. His grip tightened on the edges of the bed as he was suddenly transported to the street of the attack.  
>He was back next to his Vespa. The world was still grey and there was little noise. All of a sudden he was pushed into the wall from the back. The hand, that he instinctively reached out to soften the blow, was now clasped into a tight fist as the flesh of his buttocks was sliced with phenomenal force. The primal scream that escaped his mouth pierced the void of silence just as the steel blade tore through the other cheek.<br>He barely had time to comprehend what had happened before his vision was suddenly taken away from him. The harsh fabric that covered his eyes had also blocked his nostrils and Kent was struggling to breathe. As he hyperventilated, his mouth open and gasping, another piece of fabric assaulted his face, this time_, in his mouth_. His breathing, near impossible now, had increased to the point of near animal rates. With his sight stolen and his voice trapped, Kent felt more scared and alone than ever before.  
>As the scene faded to just sound and touch, Kent lay, still gripping the bed with clenched fingertips.<br>He felt hands on him now. Grasping him; pulling him, and as the last remaining source of consistency in his distorted world was ripped away, Kent knew now there was nothing he could do.  
>The attackers pulled him from the wall and began to lead his disorientated body to the right. After what seemed like a thousand cautious steps, Kent was thrown with brute force to the ground. The dampness in his trouser legs confirmed that his knees were bleeding and the twinge in his ankle was enough to suspect a sprain.<br>As hands once again grasped him, the dampness on his trousers was no longer an issue, as they were now being slid with disturbing gentility down his legs.  
>His mind raced; His world span; His heart almost stopped, as with a sickening realisation, it daunt on him what was about to happen.<p>

His ears were assaulted with a barrage of moans and sexual remarks as his dignity, innocence and virginity was perniciously ripped away.

Chandler and Miles ran down the pristine corridor. Under different circumstances, a comical reference may have been uttered, but their minds never swayed from Kent.  
>Chandler couldn't give a hoot if he 'wasn't allowed in'. He was his friend, hell, he was more than that, and if that didn't cut it, he was also his DI.<br>The 2 way doors to the emergency room swung open as Joe ran to his colleague.  
>Kent was the picture of agony. His eyes were closed and his hands gripped the bed as if he were hanging on for life. His breathing was far too rapid, but just as Chandler was about to call for assistance, Kent's body relaxed, no longer conscious.<br>"Kent!" Chandler's efforts at rousing the young man were in vain, and as he reached his arm out, he was pushed aside.  
>"Excuse me Sir, who are you?"<br>"I'm DI Chandler, what's wrong with my DC?"  
>"I'm sorry Sir, but we need to get him to theatre immediately. He's lost too much blood."<br>"I'm not leaving him. He's my responsibility."  
>The doctors were already wheeling the gurney out of the room, but Joe still heard the much welcomed response.<br>"You can watch in the visitors booth, follow us."

It looked like a scene from a medical drama, as the team of drip holding, anaesthetic giving, bed steadying doctors ran down the hallway.  
>Miles and Chandler were, once again, speeding through the hospital. As they reached the theatre, a nurse directed them to the viewing booth and gave them a run down of the rules. To Chandler, it was all white noise, but Miles listened intently and assured her they would be no trouble. He was just pleased Joe had been allowed in. It would have crushed him to have Kent taken away just as he'd found him. Being a member of the police had it's perks.<p>

Chandler paced up and down as the theatre staff got ready. The surgeons were scrubbing up in the corner room as the rest of them readied trays, implements and drapes.  
>Kent was breathing through a regulator now and his body, save for his buttocks and lower back, was covered in green cloths. The surgeons entered and Chandler stopped pacing immediately as they commanded his attention.<br>For the next 10 minutes, Joe stared intently at Kent and the 'men in green' fussing around him. Done preparing, they were now washing his wounds out with saline solution and assessing the damage. Miles, more concerned for his DI than the man safely in the hands of the surgeons, watched Chandler with sadness and admiration. He'd never seen him so worried. Despite the lack of his usual 'expression', he could feel the anxiety flooding off his friend in quantities far greater than ever before. He was about to put a hand on Joe's shoulder when the DI suddenly stepped forward. They were starting. _Really_ starting.  
>As one of the surgeons reached out to one of the slashes, his hand lowered and stopped. Through the sound proof glass, all Chandler and Miles could here was muffled bleeping. They couldn't make out what the shorter surgeon was shaking his head about. Chandler stepped forward again and was as close to the glass as he could get without actually touching it. So when the man was handed a pair of silver tweezers and slowly lowered them to Kent, Joe saw exactly what they were clasping.<br>It took a second to hit him, but when it did, it almost knocked him over. As Chandler staggered back, his hand over his mouth, Miles went to steady him, but turning at the last second in the direction of his boss's gaze, he too stepped back.  
>Chandler ran out of the viewing booth, his hand firm at his mouth, trying to supress the urge to vomit, and Miles was left alone.<br>As he stood there in the cold silver room, the rhythmic bleeps only just penetrating the glass, Miles stared at the cigarette butt being held to the light and wondered if life at the station would ever be the same again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chandler ran out of the tiny room, clutching his mouth in an attempt to prolong the expulsion of the vomit he could feel forcing its way up.

He ran round the nearest corridor and frantically searched for the room. Thankfully, this was a hospital, and the architects had been sensible.

As he pushed the door portraying the little man, he burst into the nearest cubicle and released. The contents of his stomach left with such a violent force, he was forced to his knees as all his energy left with it. When it was over, he raised his head away from the bowl as his thoughts turned back to that image in the room. The picture was as vivid as if he were there and he felt his stomach lurch again. He threw up twice more before the relief turned to pain as he began dry retching.

After kneeling near the bowl for almost five minutes waiting for the retching to subside, he staggered out of the tiny space and stumbled to the silver basin on the other side. He reached out and turned the hot tap on full blast. The tap hadn't been stiff, but it almost took all of his strength. He'd never felt this weak. His hands were shaking, his lip felt like it was trembling and his knees felt like jelly.

After a minute or so of heating up, the steam was finally beginning to rise, and the vapours hit Chandlers face in a merciful relief. He began to take deeper breathes now but his mind was still racing, going over and over the last few minutes. As the world felt like it was about to crush him, he plunged his hands in the steaming water and splashed his face in an effort to stay conscious.

Miles stared at the horrific scene before him as his mind also raced. Thankfully, he was trained to cope in situations like this, but that didn't help much when it was one of your own. He looked about the room, trying to think as his eyes rested on the button included in the 'do not touch' speech. He pushed it as quickly as he could and his voice startled the perplexed surgeons.

"Stop this operation now. We need to preserve all evidence."

The shortest surgeon, the only woman, came to the other side of the glass and pressed her button too.

"We'll need to bring him back round then. We can't leave him under anaesthetic for long."

"That's fine. We'll need to speak with him before this goes any further anyway. Just cover 'im up, yeah?"

"Of course. We'll take him to the ICU. He'll come round there. "

"Thank you."

The masked women silently nodded on the other side of the glass as she released her switch. Miles stared at Kent slowly being covered up again, and then the door. As he tried to decide which of his colleagues needed him more, he left the room, having chosen the DI over the still unconscious Kent. At least Kent had people with him.

As he left the room, he realised he had no idea where he was. He'd never been in this division of the hospital before and Chandler could be anywhere by now. He slowly wandered down the corridor, looking as he went for the tall, thin man, when suddenly the sound of distant running water hit his ears. As he carried on, slower than before, the noise grew louder in the quiet space and eventually Miles had located the source.

He gently pushed the door to the Men's open and entered.

As expected, Chandler was there, standing over a sink with the tap spewing out what looked like boiling water. The steam clouded the man's face somewhat, but Miles could see his eyes were closed and his hands grasping the edge of the silver bowl.

He stood there for a minute, waiting to see if the DI had noticed his presence, but if he had, it didn't show. After another half a minute silence, Miles searched for something to say. He asked the only thing he could think of.

"Are you OK?"

Chandler looked up, startled, but his brain quickly made sense of things and he answered his DS. "Of course I'm not OK."

It didn't go down well. He knew it was a stupid thing to say, but Miles couldn't think how else to start the conversation.

He was going to think of another probably equally stupid thing to say, but the silent pensive DI beat him to it.

"How could they do that to him?"

It sounded so pitiful, posed like a real question. But Miles didn't have the answer.

"I don't know. "

"Miles they…." He made to shout out, but the word got caught and Chandler just could bring himself to say it. He turned back to the sink and let the vapour immerse him for another minute while he thought of what to do.

As if Miles followed his thoughts, he was the next to speak. "You need to go and be with him. Don't make him wake up alone."

Miles thought the DI hadn't heard but a moment later, he reached for the tap and slowly turned it, until the water stopped running.

"You're right."

As they made their way back down the corridor, Chandler could feel his legs still shaking. He tried to walk tall and straight to keep up his composure, but Miles had noticed him wobbling a bit and stood just close enough to steady him, should he need to.

Thankfully, the ICU was one place in the hospital they _did _know where to go. As detectives, they were always off getting statements, and luckily, a lot of them were from victims, being treated for stab wounds or bullet holes.

Miles turned confidently round the corner and stopped outside the tall double doors. He knocked on the door to be let in and Chandler's eyes instantly fell on the bed housing his unconscious DC. He looked more peaceful this time and for an instant, Chandler could pretend he was just sleeping. But as Miles pulled on his arm and started towards Kent, he was forced to confront reality.

As they each pulled up a chair next the bed, Miles turned to Chandler and spoke with a mixture of sympathy and authority. "We need him to give a statement. We can't do anything to the bastard that did this unless he reports it and lets them take DNA samples."

"Do you think he will?" Chandler didn't want this conversation, but he knew it needed to be had.

"Well, that's where we come in. We have to convince him. Otherwise, all of this has happened for nothing, and they get away scot-free."

As Miles spoke, Chandler's gaze never left Kent. It was almost hard to remember him laughing, even though only yesterday morning they were joking in the DC's kitchen. 'Such a long time ago', Chandler thought. But Miles' words overlapped the memory and Chandler turned to him with misty eyes.

"I can't."

He understood. Not that he wanted to do it himself, but he wouldn't force his boss to have that conversation.

"Ok. "

As Chandler returned his focus to Kent, he startled Miles with his loud exclamation in the silent room.

"Kent!"

Both men looked down at the no - longer unconscious DC, starting to stir on the bed.

"Hey," his voice was weak and croaky. For a moment, everything was a blur to him. As he looked at the concerned faces of his two superiors, he wondered why he was lying down in a hospital room. Then suddenly he remembered. His face fell and he averted his gaze, embarrassed at what they must already know.

And his assumption was only confirmed when Miles lent forward gently and spoke in the quietest voice he'd ever heard from the east end man.

"Kent….. We know what happened."

Chandler snapped up at his words and grabbed the DS' arm, pulling him up and away from the bed.

"Miles, he's only just come round. Do you have to do this now?"

He looked back at the weak man, returning his gaze. "I know. I don't want to, but we have to. Every second lost adds to the chance of the DNA being compromised. I know you're feeling…. Particularly protective…. But we have to do our jobs.

"Fine." Chandler submissively made his way back to Kent and, on getting there, turned his chair slightly and looked in his lap.

"Kent", Miles continued, having received permission, "We know you don't want to talk about it, but time is of the essence. If you report what happened, we can start an investigation straight away and catch whoever did this to you."

Kent looked down, clearly embarrassed. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, a quiet voice spoke.

"I don't want them to know."

Miles looked at Chandler, questioningly but the DI just sat with his hands in his lap, looking down.  
>"Don't want who to know?"<p>

"Every one." He paused for a second, but carried on. "Everyone at the station will know if I report it. You know how stuff spreads there. I.. I don't want to be a laughing stock."

Chandler inwardly cringed. All he wanted was to reach out to the young DC, _his_ DC. But … he just.. Couldn't. He carried on rubbing his hands, his face lowered all the while this was breaking him inside.

Miles, on the other hand, reached forward without a second's hesitation. "Kent… Kent look at me."

Kent looked up and it suddenly hit Miles just how young he was. He was always the station baby, and they picked on him maybe more than the others, playfully of course, but as the misty brown eyes me his own, he saw complete youth in them. They radiated it and Miles felt more like a father to him than he ever had before.

He took his hand and gave it a light reassuring squeeze . "Kent. You will _never_ be a laughing stock at that station. As long as I have breathe in this old knackered body of mine, I will personally make sure that_ anyone_ who finds out about this for _any_ reason will know how strong and how brave you were. I'd like to see any one of those men go through this and come out the other end like I believe you will. You're the youngest of our team and I know that gives us licence to tease sometimes, but that just means you're one of us. Every one of us would lay down our reputation and our jobs to protect you, and don't think for a second that we would regret doing it. _If anyone_ even so much as looks at you differently after this…" he gave Kent a little smile…" they better start running."

Even though no one saw it, chandler also smiled. To know someone was looking out for Kent, besides him, was reassuring. Especially right now. And it seemed to have worked.

Kent took a deep breath and, after looking at Miles for a second as if gauging his sincerity, spoke.

It was barely audible, but both Chandler and Miles heaved a sigh of relief when they heard it.

"OK."

As if on cue, just then the doctor came in. "Hello . We need to take you back into theatre to finish and I'm sure you know the sooner the better. Are you ready?"

Kent gave Miles a look reminiscent of a child to a mother, and after an encouraging nod, weakly agreed.

"Ok then," She carried on, "We'll be back to take you down in just a second." After a quick glance at the heart monitor screen, she turned on the spot and left the room.

The three men were silent for a second, not knowing what to say before Kent would be whisked away, but the DC broke the silence.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to work?"

"Are you sure you don't… ", but Kent cut him off.

"Don't stay on my account. I'll be fine, honest. You go. I'll see you later?" The question was aimed at Chandler, and the DI looked up.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll come by after work and take you home." Chandler faked a quick smile before getting up and looking at Miles, waiting for him to do the same.

"Alright then." Miles said after sensing Chandler's impatience. "See you soon, Lad."

On the way out, they passed the doctor with a small group of other professionally looking people, returning to take Kent to theatre. She stopped him as they walked. "Did you get permission?"

Miles said nothing, but nodded. After warning the team to take the best care of the DC as possible, Miles and Chandler walked down the corridor and eventually out of the hospital.

As they arrived back at the station after a silent car journey, the anaesthetist back at the hospital counted Kent into a drug - induced sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"Right you lot, gather round please." Miles stormed into the incident room, followed by a less enthusiastic Chandler.

After the crowd was gathered, Miles looked at Chandler, seeing if he wanted to be the one to speak. But Chandler continued to look at the ground, clearly uncomfortable.

Miles reached back and closed the ever open door, before sitting down on the edge of a table. He took a breath.

"Kent is in the ICU at Royal London Hospital." Gasps echoed around the room, emanating from concerned colleagues.

"He was attacked while on his own. They slashed him." More gasps mixed with a few threatening obscenities were issued and Miles had to wait before they died down to deliver the blow. He took another breathe. This was going to be hard.

"There's something else." The room was silent now. Even the walls seemed to listen. "When they were fixing him up, they found … they found a cigarette butt."

Chandler grimaced, disgusted at having to hear it out loud. A few colleagues brought their hands to their mouths, gobsmacked. Then,

"What's a cigarette butt mean?" Mansell had raised the question.

Miles turned and resentfully started to explain. He _had_ hoped they would all know. It would have made things much easier.

"It's an act of hatred. A final insult after", he paused to look at Chandler, hating to have to say this aloud. "after a raping between two men. Usually it'll mean the rapist knew the victim but not the other way round."

The room was once again filled with threats and questions. "Who would want to do that to Kent?" was on everyone's lips in some variant. But there was one less person to hear it.

After Miles had said those fateful words out loud, he couldn't bare it any more. He had rushed past the rest of the group and slammed the door to his office, locking himself away from the conversation.

He knew what it meant the second he'd seen it, of course he had. He may be a fast tracker, but he knew his stuff. The urge to vomit crept up on him again as the thoughts of Kent alone took over. But he couldn't leave. He took a deep breath instead and sat down, head in hands.

Back in the incident room, the voices hadn't softened. Everyone was asking questions they knew no one had the answers to. In the second that those horrid words had left Miles' mouth, each member of the group felt an overwhelming need to protect their youngest. Miles was bombarded with noise as he tried to calm the infuriated detectives.

"Listen everyone. I know what happened to Kent was, well, just unthinkable but we have to get on with our jobs. That might seem hard to do right now, but it's the only way we can bring justice to the bastard that did this to one of our own. They picked on the wrong DC. And now we have to bring some justice back into Kent's world. But their hatred has cost them. Kent was brought straight to hospital so they can still salvage the DNA. They just made the biggest mistake of their lives, and as soon as that report comes back from the lab, they're not gonna know what's hit 'em."

The men didn't know whether to applaud, concur or remain silent. A mixture of the three occurred and just before they went back to work, Miles kept their attention for just a second longer. "Oh, and try to keep it tactful, yeah." He glanced at the boss, slumped in his seat with his head in his hands. "I'm sure you can appreciate the delicacy of the situation."

Although the others didn't know the full extent of things, they knew the DI and DC were close. Everyone got the message.

As the team went back to work with a new fire in their eyes, Miles turned around, ready for round two.

The door to Chandler's office was pushed gently open and Miles took the seat opposite him.

"Remember what you said in the viewing booth? You have to stay professional."

Chandler looked up suddenly, anger screaming from behind his watery eyes. It wasn't so much aimed at Miles, than at the situation.

"It's different now."

His voice was raised and he noticed a couple of heads turn. Softer this time, he continued. "That was before I knew what had happened. When I thought he'd just been hurt not…" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, so he reclaimed his slumped position. "I'm not sure I can deal with this Miles."

The DS looked at his distraught boss. His hair was scruffy and his eyes red. The tie that was so elegantly knotted earlier had slipped down somewhat and it was shunted a little off centre. Something that would have been fixed in seconds under different circumstances. Although, as Chandler sat up, he still straightened up his desk. Things weren't too different.

Miles leaned forward too. "Sir, you have to try. Just get through today at least. We can't do anything for Kent unless everyone plays their part, and I hate to say it, but you're the leading lady. So chin up, if only until 6. We'll make this right. I promise."

Miles stood up and gave Joe a weak smile, determined to keep his promise and Chandler was left alone with his thoughts. Always a dangerous combination.

As the clock struck 5, Chandler counted the 435th pin.

"Boss." A voice at the door startled Chandler and he came round from his world of numbers with a start.

Initially annoyed at having lost count, all was soon forgotten as Mansell delivered his news. "Sir, the DNA just arrived at the Lab. Thought you'd want to know."

Chandler rushed up from his chair and out of the room, calling Miles as he left.

The walk to Llewellyn's Lab couldn't have been longer and it felt like a marathon to the two detectives. Finally though, they reached the cold white room and burst in, jumping straight to the point. "Have you ran it yet?"

The pathologist looked up from her computer and met the anxious gaze of the DI. "Just doing it now. It'll take about 10 minutes, so if you want I can call you when…." "No, I'll wait." Chandler interrupted before anyone tried to suggest he leave.  
>"OK."<p>

After what seemed like forever and a day, the computer pinged.

Three apprehensive heads shot a look at each other, before all three rushed back to the screen. The screen that held the name of the man now in for a world of pain.

Except it wasn't the name of a man that met Llewellyn as she arrived there first. And her face quickly relayed this information to the men.

"What?" the question was asked simultaneously, but she instinctively looked at Chandler first.

"Well, this is quite extraordinary. _A_ name hasn't come up….. Two have."

Chandler and Miles rushed round to view the screen and were met with complete and utter disappointment.

"Jimmy and Johnny," Miles sighed. "Twins. Bloody identical twins."

"Well we'll bring them both in. Arrest them." Chandler probably knew in his heart that was he was saying wasn't logical but it needed Miles to make it hit him properly.

"We can't. Neither of 'em will confess and we can't hold either one without proof."

The room was silent. Everyone defeated.

"Then we'll get proof." Chandler unbent and walked away from the computer. He looked at Miles and saw the thought process transfer. Now he joined in.

"We'll question Kent. Get him to remember whatever he can. If we can get a location, we can find them on CCTV. I'll go over it till I'm dead if it means I can identify which one of those sons of bitches did this."

At the mention of Kent, Chandler looked at his watch. "Damn." He muttered under his breath, but in the quiet lab, Miles heard.

"What?"

"I've got to go pick Kent up from the hospital and take him home. I'll be back soon."

Miles gave a quick glance to Llewellyn, hoping he could get away with asking what he was about to. "Then can you talk to him. Try to find out where he was." Chandler immediately began shaking his head, but Miles continued, determined to get a result. "He might open up to you, and if you're coming back we can get the ball rolling straight away."

Joe was turning things over in his mind, unsure of what to do. But Miles delivered the last convincer and Chandler had to agree.

"Come on Boss, the sooner we can start, the sooner this all ends. No more investigation. People won't have to talk about it. It'll all be in the past."

Chandler nodded silently.

That was exactly what he wanted and he guessed he had to do his part to achieve it.


	6. Chapter 6

The pristine silver car pulled up outside the hospital and a nervous Chandler stepped out. The hospital seemed so daunting now, it's walls rocketing into the sky.

For the second time that day, he parked his car in the same spot and continued into the double doors of what was becoming his least favourite place.

"I'm here to pick up Emerson Kent."

The receptionist typed something onto her screen and there was a 20 second wait while she found the right information.

"Ok, he's in the ICU so if you head down that corridor…"

"I know where it is." Chandler interrupted.

"Ok, well if you head there, someone will direct Mr. Kent in your direction."

After leaving the desk without another word, Chandler made his way to the ICU, continuously altering his pace. The thought of having Kent back where he could see him made Joe want to sprint down the white hallway, but every time he sped up the thought of the impending conversation slowed him back down again.

But thankfully… and unfortunately, he reached the door to the ICU.

He looked through the double windows and could see Kent trying to get ready to leave with a boyish charm. It looked like it was the first time he'd ever put trousers on. Chandler knew it was because he was in pain and part of him felt awful for smirking, but it did look funny. Thankfully a nurse helped him out before his smile had a chance to turn to a laugh. Giggling at grievously harmed patients… not good.

She was giving him crutches now and what looked like a crash course in invalid basics. At least Kent was trying not to smile. He hadn't lost his sense of humour, that was for sure. Of course, she knew it was all for nothing. Most people learn how to use crutches at school when the inevitable 'pass round the toys' session occurred every time someone hurt their ankle. It was protocol though, and the hospital was legally safe as long as she recited her safety speech.

Kent took the metal sticks from her and, escorted, made his way to the door. He was actually faster on the crutches, which was not good for Chandler. He quickly tried to think of something to say while the young man swung his way towards him. He'd be there any second and all Joe could think of was 'You look good on them.' Not something he could really say in front of the nurse, not that it was appropriate anyway.

"Hiya."

Damn, too late. Chandler straightened his tie and focused on Kent's eyes, being careful not to look for his wounds. "Hi. I've come to take you home."

Chandler was being a little too formal but Kent assumed it was probably for the nurses' benefit. "Oh, ok. Cool. I just have to go and be discharged and then we can go."

Joe followed the DC and Nurse down the corridor, slowing his pace to almost half the usual, having to account for Kent's … disadvantage. Kent looked back at Chandler. He was obviously dawdling and his eyes were focussed on the ground.

Kent felt bad for the DI having to accommodate him and sped up, trying to prove himself. But as they turned the corner, Kent misjudged his stride and as the crutch slipped from under his right hand, he felt himself being held up. He turned to see his saviour, but as his eyes rested on the arm that held him, he felt a pang of disappointment. Where he had hoped to see black sleeve of his DI, lay the white under layer of the nurse in scrubs. He steadied himself and looked back, embarrassed, to Chandler. He wasn't looking at the floor anymore. Instead his outstretched hand was steadily retreating and the blue eyes met his own in a look of apology and sympathy. Kent turned back, satisfied by the fact that Joe had at least attempted to stop him whilst Chandler's thoughts turned to regret as he knew he hadn't really tried. Of course, his instinct had been to reach out for him, but something stopped him. At least the nurse was there to remedy his lack of action.

Finally they reached the reception desk and Kent was released back into the big bad world. Making their way to Chandler's car, a thought struck Kent. The journey was going to be agony. Sitting down was just barely doable but the various road bumps were going to make it excruciating.

As he slowly lowered himself in, Joe called out for him to stop as he rounded the car to the boot. Opening with a soft woosh only associated with cars of a certain quality, the boot rushed skyward and Chandler's face disappeared… only to re-emerge seconds later with a cushion that could match his torso in size. Kent's surprised look prompted Joe's explanation. "In case of emergencies."

Kent was going to enquire what sort of emergency would require a moderately sized cushion, but his mind connected with a distant memory of Chandler resting in his car during the ripper case. It didn't really matter anyway. Chandler's think ahead had save his backside a bucket load of pain. "Thanks." Kent awkwardly took the cushion and placed it on the passenger seat, uncomfortable of the fact he was about to sit of the beautiful fabric.

The car journey was a long and silent one. Neither man knew what to say to each other after the recent events and neither wanted to be the first to experiment.

Kent felt like a child on a booster seat with his added height. His head was about the same height as Chandler's now and it took him back to the journeys he used to take with his mum, pretending to drive despite the lack of steering wheel. He almost wanted to outstretch his hands and grasp the invisible wheel once more.

With relative comfort the journey continued until at last the streets were familiar once more and every turn off was a countdown to his own street. The green door soon came into view and Kent felt a surge of pleasant familiarity. Chandler effortlessly pulled into the space outside Kent's little house and quickly exited his own side to assist his wounded passenger from his.

"Careful." Kent looked like a baby deer trying to stand for the first time as he lifted his pelvis from the seat and proceeded to shimmy out. His head came out last and as he stood Joe thrust the crutches he'd retrieved from the backseat at him. With a little nod of awkward appreciation, Kent made his way to his front door.

Chandler watched the young DC swing his way to little house as he locked his car. He would need to go in after him, to comfort him; talk to him, but as he thought his eyes drifted down to where Kent's wounds were and he shuddered. He wasn't sure which emotion took precedence. The one where he felt completely at home and safe with the brown eyed bambi that was his … well ... boyfriend or the one that made him physically recoil every time he thought of another man touching him. His mind was in turmoil and as he tried to straighten out his thoughts a soft voice called him.

"You coming?"

Joe held his hand up, signalling that he'd be a minute and turned back to his car. He tried to make it look as if he was doing something while he took several deep breathes and tried to banish the urge to jump in and drive away. He looked back at the house Kent had just entered, and taking the opportunity, reached into his pocket and pulled out his beloved Tiger Balm. He rushed the application, not wanting Kent to see him and, replacing it in his pocket, walked slowly towards the door.

Kent's home was ...cozy, to say the least. He'd been there many times, of course but this time felt different. Felt… constricting. He made his way to the living room and, laying eyes on the couch that was too big for the little room, memories flooded in.

He saw the two of them sitting side by side, Kent's woolly hair under chin as the young man snuggled up to him. He couldn't remember what they were watching. A film of some sort, one that didn't really interest Chandler. Well, not as much as watching Kent anyway. His baby face contorted and frowned when he was unsure of something. Even when something gruesome happened, despite being a DC and used to it. He could only see the half of Kent's face, the way it was angled on his chest, but half was enough. His eyes lit up and widened every time the movie took an unexpected turn and that grin that spread across his face filled Joe with pride and love for the man that was all his.

Joe had slept over that night, not needing to be in particularly early the next day, as was becoming the norm now. He even had his own drawer and bathroom kit permanently there. Kent would come over to his place sometimes too, but Chandler much preferred to see the DC in his natural environment. Besides, he didn't have to tell Kent off for moving things there.

"Do want a cuppa?"

Kent's soft tone seeped into Chandler's daydream and the DI turned round. As he took in the figure in the doorway, the memory seemed distant. Reality was ruining the moment, and as Chandler made his way to the kitchen, something stopped him once more from nearing Kent any further. The memories that had just sweetened his brain had vanished completely now, replaced with gruesome images of what Joe had imagined to be the attack. He couldn't help lowering his gaze and mentally picturing the slash wounds that would no doubt be there forever.

"I…" Chandler tried to purge the images. Banish them from his mind and memory. He wanted nothing more than to stride forward and sweep his boyfriend off his feet and back to couch he held so dear. But he just… couldn't. He felt like screaming. The ambivalence was ripping him apart. He felt like his insides were on fire. The memories he had spent so long acquiring were slowly becoming obsolete in the struggle. His hands itched. His legs felt weak. He had to get out.

"I have to get back." He managed to push a few words out, trying to be gentle with the obviously disappointed DC. He just needed time, space. To think. To … come to terms with it. He wanted to say all this aloud. Reassure the young man that his feelings hadn't changed. He still loved him like the day they met. But his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth and his words slurred. "I'm sorry. I have to fix this."

Kent stood in the doorway, the empty mug hanging from his right crutch. Watching the DI leave, thoughts began to clutter his mind as his eyes slowly welled.


	7. Chapter 7

Chandler walked sluggishly back into the incident room. Several expectant faces looked up, apprehensively waiting for news on their youngest. But Chandler couldn't talk. He felt like he was about to collapse. The room was practically spinning now and it was all he could do to stagger to his office.

The faces of concerned colleagues watched him as he went by, each in turn looking to each other for advice. It was Miles who stood up, taking the role as alpha in his stride. Chandler had barely shut the door when Miles barged in after him.

The DI was exhausted. Physically, mentally, that much was obvious. He almost thought about calling the station medic when it looked like Joe had actually collapsed. But, closed eyes opened and barely focusing, stared up at Miles.

"I couldn't… "

His words were sluggish and he looked like he was about to drift off. If Miles hadn't known better, he would have sworn he could see Chandler's eyes slightly welling.

He couldn't be angry. He was frustrated, _that_ was aloud, but after seeing the day take its toll on his boss, he knew all that was left was to be there. Tomorrow wasn't far off, 'till then Joe needed them more.

Chandler's silence daunted Miles. It wasn't that it was an unfamiliar occurrence, far from it, but now Miles had to choose the best course of action for himself. Asking questions could be a really stupid thing to do right now, but he was sure talking would help him, if only a little.

As he looked at the DI, totally spent, he remembered how much harder this must be on him. He was acting like a friend, a concerned colleague desperate to bring justice to the wronged young'n, but Chandler had so much more to contend with. His boyfriend had been attacked, raped and Joe couldn't even talk about it. Fair enough, the others probably _did_ know by now, but Joe would never announce their intimacy. Whether it was for his or Kent's benefit, he wasn't sure but Chandler just wasn't ready to come out yet. At _least he_ could do something though.

"I know how hard on you this must be." Miles spotted a slight scoff from the DI but carried on, determined to get him to talk.

"I _do._ And it might not seem like it but talking _could_ actually help." Silence still. Miles pressed on. "What happened when you picked Kent up, 'cause you weren't like this when you left. _Nearly_, but not quite." He'd hoped a touch of humour would put his friend at ease, but Chandler stayed slumped, eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

…

"I love him."

The sudden declaration surprised Miles so much, he couldn't hide the expression quickly enough. As Joe looked up, he saw Miles, bewildered. That was the first time he'd said those words about Kent to anyone, including the person in question. He was sure Miles knew this, but the next comment confirmed it. Apparently Miles knew him better than expected.

"Then what are you doing sitting here for? Go and tell 'im that! I'm sure he'd rather hear it than some old man and your lamp."

He shook his head. "It's different. Back… back at his house. I could see it. Our past, sitting on the sofa. Laughing. It's different now. All I can see when I look at him is what happened. I feel… enraged that I wasn't there to stop it."

Miles took his usual seat, across from Chandler and looked into his eyes. "You need time. This has all happened so quickly. Anyone would need time to process things. Come to terms with it. I know you_ think_ you think differently to us, but no one here would handle this any better. The difference is, you're forced to confront it. We need you to lead this investigation. Order, defer, we don't mind but we need you. And so does Kent.

..Look, go home. Get some sleep. You can't do anything in this state. But we _will _catch him and it _will_ be over."

Miles didn't need to wait for a reply. He knew one probably wouldn't come anyway, but he'd made his point.

Everyone had left and the station was settling in for the night… as was the DI, still slouched on the chair.

'Kent _is_ home', he thought as closed his eyes and let the exhaustion win.


	8. Chapter 8

….

"Kent!"

The sound of the name he treasured, shouted simultaneously throughout the room startled the DI into consciousness. As he looked at his watch, still sitting on his wrist having forgotten to take it off the night before, Chandler rubbed his eyes and sat up. He'd planned to spend the night there, but he _hadn't _planned to be up that late. 3 figures moved about the incident room, although he could only make out Miles through his bleary eyes. Soon enough though, his focus readjusted and he saw the reason for the outburst.

The centre of attention, Kent stood by his desk trying not to lose his balance as hugs came at him from all sides. Joe stood up, a little too fast for having just woken and marched to the door, a little dizzy but anxious to greet his partner.

"Kent? What are you doing here? You not due back at work for weeks." The men spread out, as if revealing the prized object to their alpha. The curly haired DC looked up, sheepish eyes meeting his own. "I want to catch who did this to me." His voice was determined, yet quiet as he motioned with his crutches. "I'll be careful". The latter comment was almost inaudible and directed only at his boss. It didn't convince Chandler, but he couldn't really argue with him. After all, he'd want to do the same. "Fine. But paperwork only. No leaving this station."

Kent bowed his eyes, nodding very slightly in submission. It wasn't the most thrilling job, but he couldn't really do much else anyway. He just wanted to be involved.

The crowd was starting to disperse when Chandler felt a strong grip on his arm. Miles motioned to his office and after a quick reassuring smile to Kent, pulled the DI away.

"We have to ask him. We have nowhere to go with this investigation until we get evidence."

Joe hung his head, wishing Miles would stop bugging him. He knew he was right though, of course and relented a second later. "Can you?"

Miles turned back to the DC easing himself into his chair. "Alright, but you're gonna be there. Come on. Kent?" Chandler walked back to his office, dreading the conversation about to come as Kent froze mid-air. "Mmm?"

"We need to talk to you. Nothing major, just a couple of questions."

He knew Miles was trying to be friendly, but an enquiry was coming and Kent could feel the attitude of the room change. Taking up his crutches, he slowly made his way to the office he once loved. Chandler had already seated himself and was now applying the familiar balm to his temples. Not exactly a good sign if he was _already_ stressed. As Kent entered and carefully took a seat, Joe looked up briefly, but apologetically before turning to Miles in expectation.

Leaning against the table, much to Chandler's dismay, Miles began. "We've had a look at the DNA report. Llewellyn checked it twice." Kent looked up at Miles, his big brown eyes apprehensive. "And?" "The thing is, the DNA belonged to a set of twins. Rather nasty twins, but the problem is…" "Same DNA," Kent interrupted, immediately sensing the problem. He hung his head, eyes closed. "So what can you do? He can't get away with it.. He just can't!" Chandler cringed at the agitation produced by someone he held so close. "Well," Miles continued, hoping the desperation would help with the next request. "That's what we need to talk to you about. We _think_ we can trace him. Get the evidence we need to send them down. But… we need you to tell us everything you remember about the attack."

Kent's heart dropped. He had a feeling that was coming, assumed it in fact but the realisation that he would actually have to strain to remember what he'd been trying to block out still hit hard.

"I… I don't remember much."

Miles put a hand on Kent's shoulder. "_Anything_ you can remember would help."

Kent closed his eyes again, reluctantly trying to recall anything he could. After a minute of silence, the timid voice spoke up. "I … remember walking. Down a street. I was trying to get to Monty." Chandler's mouth instantly upturned to form a brief smile. He loved the way Kent cherished his Vespa. It made him _more_ adorable, if that was possible. Kent's voice brought him back to the discussion and the smile slipped away as Kent tried to remember more. "I remember I was scared. I don't know why. I just felt something… I dunno. Wasn't _right_."

Miles listened intently, urging the timid young man forward with a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "What else? You said you were walking down a street. Do you know which street?"

Deep in thought, Kent's eyes scrunched up as he tried to force the memory back. After a minute he began to shake his head, visibly frustrated. "No. I'm sorry. I can't remember."

Chandler looked up. "It's ok." His voice was soft, familiar, reassuring. "Take your time. Do you remember what happened next?"

Encouraged by the dulcet tones of his boss, Kent closed his eyes again, softly this time and slowly narrated what he saw.

"… I was nervous. Worried. I got to my moped and… I couldn't find the key. I remember checking my pockets. I don't…"

"Take your time." The soft voice resonated through Kent's ears and he took a deep breath. "I.. I heard footsteps. Quick steps. And then… and then I was pushed. Up against a wall. I dunno what happened next. The noises all stopped, the drilling and banging and cars, it all just… stopped."

Chandler leant forward and Miles stood up. They both hoped the opening that just presented itself would lead somewhere. "Drilling?" Miles took the lead, still assuming acting head in the enquiry. "Kent, you said drilling and banging. Do you remember what sort of drilling it was?"

Kent had sensed it too. The minute his superiors pricked up, he knew he'd stumbled on something potentially helpful. The pressure was on even more now to remember and he tried to ease it by allowing the aural memory to take over. "It was… loud. Really loud."

"Pneumatic." Chandler and Miles spoke in unison as they both twigged. "There's a building site a few streets away. New block of flats. Long roads too." Chandler was already out of the door when he finished his sentence and as Miles and Kent were left alone, they both felt momentarily relieved. "Good work, Kid."

Kent nodded slightly. He knew they weren't there yet, but maybe now they were on the right track.

"Skip?" Miles turned around, having gone to follow his DI. "Yeah?"

Kent's hesitance made Miles retake his position on the desk. "Hey? What is it?"

"I don't know if I should.."

Miles replaced his hand on Kent's shoulder. "I won't tell. Scouts honour!"

Kent allowed a little smile to form, but it quickly reverted to worry. "...It's Joe. I dunno… He's been… different." Miles sighed. He was hoping this wouldn't happened. Hoping somehow Kent hadn't noticed. "Different how?"

Kent shook his head. "Just different. When he picked me up, the car journey was pretty much silent and he couldn't get away from me fast enough when we got home. He hasn't…" Kent felt embarrassed venting this to Miles, but of everyone, he knew he was the one to trust. "He hasn't hugged me since…"

Miles jumped in, saving Kent from having to go into too much depth. "He's just… " The DS realised he had no clue what he was going to say. "He's working out how to adjust. You mean the world to him Kent. He's just trying to come to terms with what happened. He's angry and he's upset. He just doesn't know what to do with everything right now. Plus he has to remain professional. Keep his distance, just while this is going on."

Letting out an inner sigh, Miles stood again. He was pleased with what he'd said but he really did have to get on now. The wheels had already been put into motion no doubt and Miles wanted to be a part of it. As he left, he patted the young man on the back. "Look, try not to worry too much. He'll come round. And this'll all be over soon."

Kent smiled, more out of courtesy than anything else. He only hoped Miles was right.


	9. Chapter 9

"How are we doing?" Miles leant over Mansell as the latter trolled through various clips of CCTV. "Still looking." Chandler looked at Miles questioningly, wondering what took him so long, but the DS just shook his head. Attentions turned back to the screen and Chandler shouted stop, maybe a little too loudly in such close proximity to the DC's ear. As he pointed to the screen, he looked at his subordinate for reassurance. "That's it. That's the road with the building site. Can you get different angles?"

"Now I know what I'm looking for." Miles gave a small smile, trying to comfort his anxious boss as Mansell proceeded to type at a surprisingly quick pace. They really didn't give him enough credit for it, but he was _good_ with computers.

"Alright. I've got the main road, the building site and the alley. The only other camera in the area's blocked by construction tools." Miles and Chandler weren't listening to the last bit. They'd both heard what they needed. "Alley. It'll be the alley." Chandler reluctantly gave the instruction before turning away. The whole team was there now, on chairs, or just standing in the background. They all wanted Justice for their youngest. He turned round once more, having thought of one last necessity. "Check the street first. That's where the attack ..." He sighed "...Started."

Mansell looked uncertainly to Miles before forwarding the tape.

The station was silent as the men watched time increase. Minutes turned to seconds and hours to minutes as the screen conveyed images of the quiet street. Miles took the opportunity to look up at the separate office, still housing the anxious DC. He nudged Chandler and nodded to Kent. "Send 'im home, yeah?"

The DI nodded silently and made his way to the office while concerned faces remained on the empty street. 6AM had rapidly turned into 6PM and Chandler silently resumed his position at the back. "He alright?" Joe looked at his DS, tiredness still in his eyes. "He wasn't happy. But he left." His eyes travelled back to the screen whilst Miles' remained on his boss a second longer. Resilient was the only word that came to mind.

"Wait. There!" At the shout, Miles' eyes darted back to the screen and were instantly met with the tiny figure of what was obviously Kent, now paused in the middle of the road. Chandler resumed control, although reluctant to do so. If he lead this bit though, he could maybe get away with it when he _really_ needed to leave. "Right. Now play in normal speed."

The men watched in utter silence as the figure of their beloved colleague slowly walked down the deserted street. Sure enough, as Kent had said, he started to look around, clearly anxious. His pace had sped up, although barely noticeably. They knew he was trying to keep calm. As they watched him turn back, head pointed at the orange Vespa at the top of the screen, Mansell suddenly pointed. As the rest looked to his finger tip, pressed against the screen, bodies automatically leant forward as they each strained to see. But, after a second or two, they all did.

Walking behind Kent at a slow and steady pace, were two men. "The twins."

Collective breaths were held as each man in turn knew what was inevitably about to happen. Chandler has to bite his tongue to stem the urge to shout out to his tiny boyfriend. To tell him to turn around, to run. To do anything. But instead, he remained silent, watching with the rest as the men in suits caught up to their friend and viciously push him against a wall.

Sure enough, the events from Kent's medical report were carried out one by one in front of their eyes. Bruises noted earlier were being made, superficial cuts were being sliced into Kent's skin as they taunted him with the blade destined to slash him. And sure enough, after nearly five minutes of brutal taunting, the knife was raised above the left twin's head and driven down with sickening speed into the tiny figure's right buttock. As the blade was forced down, they watch Kent in helpless horror. Watched his legs give way as the second twin held him up by sheer force on his back. Watched as the second blow was delivered with even more strength.

Only the whirring of the tower could be heard as each man brought his hand to his mouth. To watch a man so defenceless get attacked like that was like a punch to their hearts, but to watch it done to a friend felt more like the blade residing in the suited man's hand.

After another five minutes the attack was seemingly over. The twins back away and Kent, drained of all energy and losing blood, dropped to the floor. Stunned faces watched as each man knew what was coming.

Arms reached down and Kent was hauled up by the twins, just enough to be dragged, seemingly effortlessly to the alley noted earlier.

Without a word Mansell commanded the computer to change the view and the picture changed dramatically. The screen was now filled with a cold, dark and narrow alleyway. A single lamppost shone weakly as the figures from the street pulled Kent onto the new screen.

The could see their faces now and in a second Joe felt more hatred for the tiny figures than he thought he was capable of. Their faces were completely identical, as were their outfits. Slowly, Kent was dragged along the ground, blood seeping through his trousers.

As the twin on the left bent down, reaching out to Kent, he suddenly jolted to a stop.

…

Miles pulled his arm back from the keyboard. He may not know a lot about computers, but he knew how to pause. Faces all turned to him now, looking for an explanation to the sudden action.

"Lets give the lad some dignity, 'eh? Only one of us has to watch this."

They turned away now, each looking at each other, hoping someone else would speak up. As faint murmurs of reluctance were voiced, Miles had been the only one to notice the departure of their DI. He didn't blame him. No one wanted to watch the horrendous footage and he didn't expect Joe to.

"I'll do it."

He had almost surprised himself, but Miles had a duty. As the oldest, the most experienced and he guessed, 'head' of their team right now, Miles owed it to them all to be the one to volunteer.

"Go on. It's time for a lunch break anyway."

One by one, the men left, each showing their gratitude to the DS, until the room was once again silent; Miles and Chandler the only inhabitants.

A quick look at the separate office and the broken man inside spurred Miles on. He'd made the right decision for the team, and like it or not, all that was left to do was to push play.

...

Kent came to life again as the men in suits dragged him further into the alley. Miles watched on in horror as one of them slowly bent down. His movements were careful, almost gentle now as he unbuttoned Kent's shirt. Every fibre of his body screamed for Miles to look away but another quick glance at his boss, lent over with his head in his hands urged his eyes back to the screen.

His shirt was on the floor now and the attention was turned to his lower half. The skinny chest of the young man visibly tensed as his trousers were slid down with an unnatural and disturbing finesse.

What came next was the stuff of nightmares, seen only in bad medical soaps and late night horror films. Miles had to restrain himself from covering his eyes on several occasions. He watched as the body of his youngest colleague, of his friend writhed and struggled on the ground. Watched as it was forced back down by arms stronger than his and watched as the most awful thing he would ever have to see, unfolded before his welling eyes.

Chandler's head had gone beyond painful. The throbbing had been overtaken over an hour ago by a constant, fierce compression. It felt like it was going to implode with pain and his temples stung from the sheer amount of menthol eating into him.

A knock at the door sent a blind pain through his skull and it physically hurt to look up at the intruder.

"Come."

Miles stood in the doorway, feeling weak to the stomach. He would have come in, but honestly, he felt like he might throw up at any moment and he didn't want to send the boss over the edge.

"Well?" Chandler didn't even want to ask the question. He needed to know, of course, but the endless possibilities of response had frightened him more than he could say. He needed to know.. But he really didn't want to.

"Who was it?"

While the DI's mind buzzed with answers not yet given, the anxious DS took a breath, ready to deliver the news.

"Both."


	10. Chapter 10

Minds raced and stomachs churned as the news did its best to settle. Chandler's fists clenched under the desk and if he bit down any harder, he was sure a tooth would chip. Endless responses and courses of action, mostly involving him and a gun, crossed his mind and as he tried to calm the rapids of his mind, Miles spoke.

"The good thing is, if you can call it that, now we can arrest them. We couldn't move before. They'd locked us in with their identical DNA but now … well, they've just saved us shit loads of work. I've just rung round and the warrant is being fast tracked. We'll have them by this time tomorrow."

"We still have to find them. They're clever. " Joe's words were quiet but the fight was slowly easing back into them.

"Nope. They're not." Miles was grinning, not at the situation, but at the salvation he now got to deliver to his broken hearted boss. "Not nearly as clever as they think they are. See, they _wanted_ to build a name for themselves, get themselves on the map. We have a file as big as your dictionary on them, we've just never been able to use it. Every crime, every injustice and every hiccup caused by them has been covered up, traced to someone else or just turned out to be a dead end. They've never been charged with anything 'cause we could never prove anything. Uniform have their names and address burned into their skulls with all the arrests they've made. _But now_…" He bent slightly to look into Chandlers eyes. He wanted to see them spark when the thought clicked. "_Now_, we have so much evidence, Billy Flynn couldn't get them off."

Just as expected, the glint arose. Chandler looked up, eyes shining at Miles - admittedly somewhat from pain - and allowed a small grin to spread across his face. And for once, he didn't feel the need to take it down. _They had them_.

The day turned to night and the station was abuzz. The loudest coffee machine couldn't be heard over the cross referencing, chasing up and ordering being done by every member of staff. Not a single officer had left to go home and every single one had refused over time. This was personal and it was their _pleasure_ to be there. As the warrant was still being processed, the station was making busy with the other tasks, equally important. When the scumbags were brought in, they would have every piece of dirt they could produce ready to present to any official who need see it. Previous warnings, arrests, records and statements were collected to form one of the biggest files criminal files they'd ever seen. And sitting right on the top, easily accessible and rating highest in importance was the fresh meat. A copy of the CCTV tape, having been saved and backed up on three different systems was taped inside an envelope, also taped down. Under the envelope lay _one _of the copies of Kent's statement, screen shots of the footage and the DNA report personally delivered by Llewellyn, who was even staying behind herself. There wasn't much she could do but even providing the Detectives with coffee was good enough for her right now.

As the door to the incident room burst open, two men strode in, clearly aware of the hurry. A detective, about 40 years old, carried a folder close to his chest. Next to him stood a second officer, in uniform, presumably for support… or something else.

As the former detective walked forward, meeting Chandler in the centre, the rest of the room rapidly stopped talking, leaving only a few mumbles to fill the air.

The warrant, enclosed in a sealed folder was gently passed to the DI with a slight look of nervous encouragement and the eyes of the room fell on him, waiting for the next move.

Noticing the change in atmosphere and the increase of men in a room usually inhabited by only a select few, Chandler felt a sudden wave of pressure. He could feel his forehead starting to sweat and he had butterflies in him stomach from anticipation. The room was his.

…

"I want every uniformed officer still here downstairs and waiting. I need the armed squad to kit up and my team… with me. Everyone else, sit tight. We may need a back up team."

The influx of power he felt from issuing the previous commands gave him the energy he needed. As the room suddenly mobilised again, Chandler felt a pat on the back. He turned to see Miles smiling with encouragement and pride.

"Come on then Sir, we've got criminals to catch."


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the massive gap! I posted it to my main LiveJournal page and completely forgot to update here. It didn't get many review so I hope it's not too disappointing...

JF out.

Driving in the middle of the night was always quite relaxing for Chandler. Something about the lack of life hustling and bustling like it did in the day appealed immensely to him. He didn't feel alone, far from it. He knew the world was safe, tucked up in bed and sleeping. It was like he could almost feel the peacefulness radiate to him.

But not tonight.

The streets were lined with vehicles now. Police cars travelled silently, with only the dimmed headlights to guide them. Each car load of officers had been given strict instructions not to turn lights or sirens on and the cars without those were told to dim their lights. They wanted no warning issued to the surrounding streets and certainly not the twins.

Joe could feel the butterflies of anticipation slowly mounting in his stomach. He'd never been this determined before. Never been this scared. Never had so much riding on one catch. As if his thoughts could be read, Miles gently patted his shoulder. "It'll be fine."

That was all he said. The rest of the journey was as silent as the start. Neither party felt uncomfortable though; they had too much riding on their ability to concentrate and execute perfectly tonight.

The procession of cars had synchronised with each other perfectly, each rounding corners identically and at the same speed. Eventually deceleration spread through the line like a wave, and each car in turn adjusted their speed. They were there.

As the silent line up came to a complete halt, the street was again in darkness. As if they all knew to wait, Chandler was the first to greet the damp, dark street. He took with him a torch, nothing more. The officers would do the work, carry the equipment. He was there for the glory. The justice. And it was _he_ of course who would do the honours. Joe couldn't think of a time when he was more eager to read someone their rights. Not long now.

Turning the torch on and pointing it downwards, he saw the street suddenly filling. Officers wearing uniform as low key as they could manage laced the streets, bringing with them every piece of equipment they had. A bludgeon filled every man's hand and handcuffs, helmets and enforcers were being equipped as necessary.

Walking into the centre of the street, Chandler commanded the attention of every member present. Speaking quietly, so as not to disturb, he ordered his 'inside' team to fall in. About a quarter of the line up moved, almost marching towards the DI. The rest were under strict orders to guard the necessarily unlocked cars and to keep an eye out for any movement on the street. It was now 3:43am and the chances of a neighbour putting their bins out was extremely remote. Even so, the heightened concentration would mean that, if either one of the twins tried to make a run for it, there would be nearly 15 officers swarming in within a few seconds.

Looking back at his street team, Chandler felt an added wave of security. Knowing the station was behind him, literally, on the street gave him the courage he needed. He nodded to his newly formed 'inside job' team and turned to face the green door. Dimmed in the light, he couldn't make out the house number as it was. A quick flash of the torch confirmed it was indeed the house of the most despised people in the station right now and, alone, Chandler stepped forward.

His hands were stiff from the tension and his head felt tight. A quick rummage in his inside pocket confirmed the possession of the warrant, and he pulled his badge out, ready to present. He found the formality almost amusing. There he was, with a street full of officers ready to break down the door, storming the house, and he still had to present his badge and title.

The moment had passed now though, and a quick nod behind at his team was the only signal needed. The had never looked more qualified than they did now. All moving as one, eight officers, including his beloved team, marched forward to the door. Creating a formation of 3, 2 and 3, the officers lined up, ready for anything. As the row with 3 men and the last one with 2 stepped back one pace, the first row stood their ground. An object, hard to determine in the dark but known to be the enforcer, was pulled back with strength and control. Waiting for the command, the middle officer looked to his DI.

The street was silent. The inhabitants asleep. The streets laced with police. In the middle of the street, one man alone moved his hand.

3… his fingers showed the command… 2… the countdown almost over, the street held its breathe…. 1… the middle officer's grip tightened….

Chandler's hand came rushing down just as the enforcer was driven with full force through the door.

Moving quickly now, aware that slumbers would stir, the seven officers moved as one through the house and immediately spread out. Two to the living room, two to the kitchen and one watching the hall, the house was alive as the remaining 3 officers and Chandler ran upstairs.

Bursting through the doors with unimaginable strength and speed, the house was ransacked with only two things on their minds. Downstairs was confirmed clear, like they suspected it would be and two officers, one from each room now left to backup Chandler.

With the house and street secure, Chandler felt more confident than ever as he strode into the master bedroom.

He expected to see one of the twins making an escape or at least looking for a way out, but what he came across put a stop in his tracks.

Now all sitting on the master bed, looking surprisingly agitated were both twins… and mother. Whatever set up they had going on here crept Chandler out. A look back at his team confirmed the unanimous surprise. Even Miles, who had seen practically everything on the job was disturbed.

"What sort of adults share a room with their mother?" He whispered to Mansell.

…

For a second, the room was silent. Bar Miles' hushed comment, no one spoke. The surprise on both sides had acted like a taser, temporarily immobilising each party. Soon enough though, realisation daunt on the twins and anger at the intrusion began to spread.

Initial shock over for the team too, rage once again began to build as the thought of what happened to Kent was matched with the two faces, glaring with sheer menace back at them.

Almost a beacon in the darkened room, Chandler stepped forward, alone and confident. With nearly the full room literally behind him, his voice was the only sound.

"Jimmy and Johnny Kray, I am arresting you for aggravated assault and rape."

With smiles on their faces, the twins were dragged to their feet by the now fully mobile officers, mostly Chandler's own team.

_"You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence.."_

"Get off me copper!" The twin detained by Mansel pulled away.

_"if you fail to mention when questioned.."_

The other twin, almost calm, stood watching his brother shout. "Stupid copper! You ain't gonna prove nufin'."

_"Something which you later rely on in court.." _

"Oh yeah?" Miles took to the stage, voice louder than even Chandler's. "well, the files and witness statement sitting in our office beg to differ.. that and the CCTV footage."

"_Anything you do say may be given in evidence."_

The smile faded from the Kray's mouth. Both twins darted a look at each other, noticed of course by Miles. "Didn't think that one through, did you?" Now it was Miles smiling.

The realisation on the twins' faces was enough to last Miles and the team a life time. All their work, both on this case and every other stinkin' murder, assault and robbery had all been worth their time and energy if it led up to this point.

One of the twins, the calmer one turned from the officers' grip and shouted at his brother. This was the first time they'd seen him really aggravated.  
>"Jimmy, you moron. You said you checked it." The twin still detained by Mansell, whom they now knew to Jimmy turned back to his brother, almost frothing at the mouth in anger at being manhandled and having made a mistake.<p>

"_I did_, Johnny, _I did_." He sounded almost pleading, almost as if more scared of his brotherthan the police. "I looked, I swear. GET OFF ME!"

"Take them away." Chandler's voice was calm, authoritative. He had them. Nothing else mattered. Not the petty squabbles, not the victory dances, not the smug satisfaction. None of that mattered now.

As the twins were taken away to the awaiting police cars, Chandler rubbed his eyes and looked around. The room put him on edge. There were pictures everywhere. Some different, some the same, but all of Ronnie and Reggie. It was like a shrine. Amongst the Kray memorabilia were things even more disturbing. Toys. Situated on various counters, tables and units sat carrousels, jack in the boxes, wooden toys from the 60's. How much of it was actually used, he didn't know but the juxtaposition of their crime and childlike mentalities made Chandler suspect some serious psychological problems were at play. Not that that excused them in his book. Nothing would.

"Creepy, huh?" Chandler jumped a little as Miles spoke behind him. He turned to face his DS, his eyes looking more bloodshot by the minute.  
>"I just don't understand.." Miles wasn't sure if that was what bothered Joe the most. Usually a motive, MO or character profile was drawn up quickly and fairly clear to all involved but these two… they were seriously messed up.<p>

"I know. And who shares a bedroom with their mother?" Chandler looked around again and noticed various items of jewellery and make up amongst the other disturbing items and had to wonder what life was like there.

Miles walked around to Chandler's front and put a hand on his shoulder. " You look knackered. Why don't you take off, there's nothing really left to do tonight anyway, well, not that the rest can't take care of."

Joe continued to stare at the room, trying to gather his thoughts on the matter but he just couldn't string a coherent assumption together. Who _were_ these people? Catching up with what Miles had said, he turned to his DS. "Day's not over yet, Miles."

He looked at his watch, working out whether or not it would be rude to show up at Kent's at this hour. He decided he'd want to be told straight away if it was him and that Kent would probably want the same courtesy.

"I need to go tell Kent." He rubbed his eyes again, trying to summon the energy to stay awake. Miles watched his DI and felt for him. It must have been exhausting these past few days. "Alright, I'll drive you."

"No. I need you at the station. Make sure the twins are secure, I don't want any chance of an escape. I need to know they're gonna pay for what they did."

He saw the DS evaluating him.

"Please?"

"Alright, but get a coffee."

"I'm fine Miles. Please just go, they'll be leaving any second."

As Miles turned to leave, Chandler followed right behind him, not wanting to spend a second longer in the asylum that was their bedroom.

Sitting in the car, he watched the police cars pull away one by one, the twins in separate cars, surrounded by the rest. It looked like a presidential escort. Although the sirens were still off, the lights now flashed and Chandler could see the silhouettes of the men he despised flash intermittently as they got further and further away.

When the flashes could only just be seen, Joe twisted the key and turned the car around, heading for what would hopefully be his last stop that night.


	12. Chapter 12

The sound of knocking resonated through Kent's silent hallway as Chandler stood impatiently on the other side. After a minute, he saw the lights turning on, followed by the sound of a chain being moved. The catch clicked as Kent opened the door dressed in the pyjamas Joe had got him for Christmas.

"Joe? What's wrong? What time is it?"

"Can I come in?"

Kent moved aside, allowing Chandler access and rubbed his bleary eyes.

Receiving permission, the DI strolled past Kent and into the living room as the younger man closed the door and followed, confused.

After a second of silence from the two tired men, Chandler smiled. "We've got them."

Kent was alert now, anxious to hear more. "What do you mean? You know where they are?"

Chandler stepped forward, hands at his side. "I _mean_, they're in custody. They're on their way to the station as we speak."

Kent was speechless. He just stood there not knowing whether to laugh, cry or collapse. "H-how?"

The DI stepped forward once more, closing the gap between them . "That's not important. Lets just say they made a mistake.. A _big_ one."

Kent was still confused, but it was too late to care tonight. He looked at his DI; the man he loved; the man he owed so much to, standing with his hands in his pockets. The smile faded from his face. As Joe watched this, his brow furrowed. "Kent, it's over."

The young man looked at the floor, he could feel his eyes starting to well again, maybe from the shock, maybe from the tiredness, maybe just from sadness.

"But it's not over, is it?"

Confused, Chandler looked at him inquisitively. He waited to see if Kent would elaborate but no such explanation came.

"Kent? What do you mean? Of course it is. They're in custody. The trial will be within the week. With the evidence we have against them, they'll be lucky if they ever see daylight again."

Nothing seemed to lure the smile back to his face, and Kent just stood, staring at the ground.

After a while of uncomfortable silence, he spoke, barely audible.

"It's not the same. It's not gonna be the same again." Chandler ducked his head to look into his eyes. "You won't…"

He paused, wondering if he really wanted to speak his mind.

"… you won't even touch me."

Chandler closed his eyes, hung his head. He could feel his heart. It ached, actually ached for the man he cherished above all else. Kent had spoken with such softness; pain that he didn't think he could take it.

He drew in as close as he could, the gap between them mere centimetres. He could feel Kent's breath. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, but kept them at his side.

"Kent…" He leaned in, speaking as softly as he could. "I - I just need time. You know how it is for me."

Kent didn't bother to raise his head. He'd expected an answer like that, but it didn't hurt any less. "I love you Kent, please believe that."

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Kent spoke again, voice softer than ever.

"I, um.. I think you should crash at your place tonight."

The response knocked Chandler back. He didn't expect it, although he couldn't blame him. "Kent?"

"Please. I get it, I _do_. I just …"

Chandler waited for Kent to finish his sentence but nothing more came out. After another second of silence, Chandler complied.

As the door catch clicked shut, Kent turned and walked back to his bed, doubting sleep would come.

…

Chandler slouched in his car, hands on his head. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. He wanted so badly to sweep Kent off his feet and never let him go, but every time he tried to reach out.. He just.. Couldn't. Some thing stopped him every time and he felt like screaming.

Half an hour passed as he sat in the driver's seat, staring at the dashboard. He had gone past tired now, and although he couldn't sleep if he wanted, his body was drained.

He desperately wanted a solution. Some way of pleasing both parties, but he doubted that existed. As he started up his engine again, his mind turned to one thing.

The knock at the door wasn't heard at first, but after subsequent tries, Judy poked her husband out of bed.

"Just go see who it is will you."

Miles stumbled out of the bed he'd only just fallen into. He knew he wouldn't get much sleep, but he expected more than 10 minutes to pass before he'd have to arise again.

He pulled the door open, eyes trying to focus on the figure leaning against the frame.

"Joe? What is it?"

Uncomfortable at having to ask to come in, Chandler stood still and silent, thinking how best to approach his tired DS, but before he could try, Miles did the talking for him.

"Come on, come in. You best be quiet though. If the Kids wake up, you're putting them back to bed."

They made their way slowly to the kitchen and each took a seat at the table. Miles waited for his DI to start talking, but Chandler just stared downwards, lost in thought.

"Jeeze, you look like man who's just lost all his money at the horses, not caught two infamous criminals. What's up?"

Chandler still stayed silent, trying as best and quickly as he could to organise his thoughts, when Miles stood up and reached into a cupboard. Pulling two glasses out, he took the bottle of scotch from the counter and poured.

"Here ya go, get that down ya."

Initially reluctant, Chandler remained still, but soon he couldn't think of a better way to steady his mind and reached for the glass. He took a little sip and let the warm liquid burn his throat as is slid down. He took a breath and downed the rest.

Miles raised his eyebrows and filled the glass again. "Now, you gonna tell me what's eating you before I fall asleep at this table?"

Chandler looked up and took another sip.

"It's Kent."

Immediately concerned, Miles looked at him enquiringly.

Upon seeing the worried look, Chandler brushed his hand through he air. "He's fine.. It's just. Well, we're not."

Miles took a few sips from his glass now and his questioning look turned to one of concern. "What do you mean? What's happened?"

Chandler downed the rest of the scotch and tried to explain.  
>"It's me. Well, I mean, you know. I just. . . I can't bring myself to.." He took a breath and started again. "All I can see is what they did to him. Every time I look at him, I see <em>them<em>. Touching him, doing… " He trailed off but Miles had heard enough.

"Well, how do you think he feels?"

Joe looked up, surprised at Mile's bluntness. " I know, I just…"

"I do get it Joe. I may not understand but I do get _that_. But…" He filled up the glasses. "poor Kid. After everything he's been through, don't you think he wants to put it behind him just as much as you do? How is he meant to do that when you're reminding him every time you won't go near him of what happened."

Chandler was silent. He felt like a monster, but he just couldn't get past that voice screaming in his head; stopping him."

In the quiet, he could feel the scotch starting to take effect.

Miles stood up and came round next to Chandler. "Look. I know it's hard, but think how he feels." He reached back to the bottle and put it down in front of Joe. "Do what you have to." As he left, Joe could just make out something about him needing his 'bloody beauty sleep' and he realised he needed to leave. As he downed the still full third glass, he could feel his thoughts dimming. They weren't gone, by any means, but his head was going from shouting at him to being background noise.

He stood up, determined, and filled the glass one last time for luck. As he stared at the liquid, his thoughts turned back to Kent. Although they rested not on what had happened, but on his eyes.

Clear as the brown liquid in front of him, Joe could see DC's big shining eyes and he felt a calm draw over him.

Deciding what he had to do, Joe turned and made his way out of the door, leaving the glass of scotch on the table.

….

Still awake, but no less drained, Kent lay on his bed wishing sleep would come.

He wanted nothing more than to leave the past week behind him, although he knew that would never happen. He tried to imagine what he would say to Chandler the next time he saw him, but every time he pictured the tall DI, he drew a blank.

A loud noise interrupted his thoughts, and as he rose to locate it, he heard it again, louder.

The fist on the other side of the door wasn't letting up and Kent had a feeling who it was.

Standing on the inside, he stared for a moment, the knocking growing louder as he tried to decide on his first words. Still not being able to, he reluctantly opened the door and had to step back as Chandler strode in, not waiting for permission.

Once again, he closed the door and followed the man into the living room, more confused than before.

"Joe, I.." Kent didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

As Chandler's lips caressed his own, Kent closed his eyes, wanting to savour the moment for ever.

As Joe drew away, he tried again, but Chandler saw his mouth open and interrupted.

"Kent, listen. I know it's been hard for you. I know I haven't helped, but I just couldn't stand the thought of anyone touching you. Getting near to you like that." He reached out and took the younger man's hand in his own. "The thought of what happened breaks my heart. That.. That I wasn't there to stop it will haunt me 'till the day I die. But if that day comes having not spent every moment until then with you I.. I would rather not live."

Kent felt his cheeks starting to hurt and only just realised he'd been smiling since the kiss. He squeezed the hand clasping his own and tried to speak but the words got lost amongst the happiness.

Chandler didn't wait for Kent to try again. The time had come to do what he should have days ago.

"Emerson, move in with me?"

Even though both men knew the answer, Kent couldn't have agreed anyway, for at the same moment the 'yes' tried to escape his lips, another pair landed on them instead.


End file.
